


faster faster (the road is all i've ever known)

by zauberer_sirin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Civil War, Daisy Is The Only Marvel Superhero, Developing Relationship, Drugs, F/M, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, On the Run, Romance, Separations, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 06:56:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5038267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Daisy hadn't been forced to run he would have never known how much she meant to him.</p><p>(Post-3x03 angst)</p>
            </blockquote>





	faster faster (the road is all i've ever known)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hamsterfactor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamsterfactor/gifts).



**1.**

He had thought that if he was objective she didn't have to be; if he made the strategies, brokered the dirty truces, Daisy could dedicate her heart and soul to the fight; that if he compromised himself she could be kept safe from all this; if he distanced himself enough then Daisy could keep her own battles personal. It all had failed. It had provoked the opposite.

"This is all you'll need for now," Coulson tells her as she gives her the bag, crossing the hangar with her, fast. "Plenty of cash, the location of a couple more safe boxes. And contacts. You can trust those."

Daisy nods at him, but something tells Coulson she's not about to trust any stranger out there.

He wishes he could do something more.

"Drop the car as soon as you can," he tells her, gesturing towards the SUVs. "You know where you're going?"

Daisy nods. "I'll call you when I get there."

"No payphones," he warns her.

She rolls her eyes at him, like she's offended he thinks so lowly of him. And she's right, she's more apt at this than he could ever be. This is her area of expertise. This used to be her, this use to be _Skye_. Coulson feels all empty inside at the thought of having pushed this kind of life onto her again. She's done nothing wrong. It was all him.

"I'm so sorry this is happening," he tells her, hollow words again, little comfort once they found out the ATCU had no intention of containing the Inhuman threat, and all the intention of _exploiting_ and if that failed – god he can't look at her face right now. How many Inhumans have died because of his stupid call? How many more will die in weeks to come?

But when he has the courage to look at Daisy again she doesn't look angry or disappointed. She just looks resolute, _ready_.

"You thought you were protecting everybody," she says. "You thought you were protecting me."

"Yes, and that arrogance has cost me everything."

She shakes her head, twisting her fingers into the collar of his shirt. "No, _I_ will make sure it hasn't."

She hugs him.

He doesn't get it. She should be angry at him. She should be berating her for this. Putting her in danger. Uprooting her like this again. Leaving her without a home to come back to.

His arms go around her back pathetically fast, pulling her closer, burying his face in shame into the curve of her neck, her familiar scent he's not sure when he'll smell again.

"We'll talk in the next couple of days, okay?" she says, softly, close to his ear. In the dark solitude of the place it sounds defeaning.

She's the one to let go because Coulson wouldn't. Ever.

 

 

**2.**

It takes him almost a whole month to find a way to shake off the tail Price's team has put on him and go see her without putting her on danger.

Daisy on the other hand, she's too good at this, she's frustrating all her pursuers. Coulson is keeping his own score, like a safety measure in case she gets into trouble, but there's nothing, he can't keep up with her. Even though she speaks with him and he knows in which city she was yesterday there's nothing, no trace, no pretty face captured by security cameras, she makes no mistakes.

It's still early days, when phone contact is still easy and safe, when Price still isn't too paranoid, when Coulson misses her, but it doesn't bite the way it will in a couple of months, because he still hopes to fix this on his end and soon, he still hopes they'll get a quick victory and she will be able to _come home_.

They meet in a park, not far away from where Coulson is supposed to be on a mission. A mission that does not require for him to report back to Price, the perfect chance to slip away.

"When I say the magic word, _Hydra_ , the ATCU seems to lose all interest. They think I'm making it up."

"Well, this is exciting," she says. "I feel like I'm in a Hitchcok movie."

They are back to back but on separate benches. Which, he feels itchy, he can't see her face. He feels like he's been waiting to see her face his whole life. It's only been a month and he's like this, all this frayed edges.

"You've been careful," he tells her in an admiring tone. "You haven't even touched the money."

"Well, yeah."

He suspects she's not being very careful right now, meeting in the open like this. She must know they are following him. This is too much of a risk, Coulson realizes. He shouldn't have come. He's being selfish once again.

He wants to tell her he misses her.

He hasn't even taken a proper look – only a glimpse, her hair is different, he's never seen her in those clothes, baggy, easily forgettable. Is there really no way he can see her face? He doesn't tell her he misses her but he considers the possibility for long enough that a tense silence falls over them.

"Did you get the data?" she asks finally.

Coulson reaches back and passes the flash drive to her, holding on to her hand for a moment, squeezing her fingers encouragingly or comfortingly he doesn't know (who he's trying to encourage or comfort is up for debate, too). Daisy squeezes back before slipping the drive into her pocket.

"How are things on your end?" she asks.

"Good, so far. Price still hasn't realized SHIELD is botching Inhuman extraction jobs on purpose," he says. Now it's up to Daisy to make sure those Inhumans are safe anyway. That's the plan, at least.

"So she's not _Rosalind_ anymore?" Daisy asks and it could have been mean and it could have been bitter and accusatory and Coulson would have deserved it, but it isn't, it's just a joke, it's just Daisy being Daisy.

"I don't think she's going to want me to call her that much longer," he admits.

He can feel Daisy lying back on her bench, their heads so close they're almost touching, he can feel the warmth of her body just behind him.

"Just be careful, okay?" she tells him gently.

He thought that was his line.

 

 

**3.**

But the ATCU is not made up of idiots, precisely. It doesn't take much for Price and her men to realize SHIELD is the enemy too, not just a girl on the run.

Though that alone, even without Coulson's team interviening, is enough of a headache.

Every time the task force puts out an APB on some Inhuman Daisy manages to hack them and erase it, puts an APB on someone on Price's team instead, making a mission in the open almost impossible for them local law enforcement always trying to reduce the agents on the trail of a gifted. She's messed around with their credit cards, their IDs, she's even put enough traffic tickets on Price's name that it's getting hard for her to go through DC without being stopped by the police. No one has been able to trace the hacks so far. And not for lack of trying.

"This kind of retaliation is very childish."

Coulson finds it very hard not to smirk at Rosalind's frustration. And she's obviously fishing for something else here, she must know Daisy has bigger plans than just maxing out her credits card faster than if the woman were addicted to online shopping.

"Your little Inhuman pet is making all our lives difficult, and that includes yours, Phil."

"I thought I had revoked your first name privileges a long time ago."

The woman's eyes harden. She's dangerous. She's getting to the end of her rope, and Daisy is not here to be the recipient of her wrath. There's only him. He likes how she brings in the whole team of scary goons with her every time she comes to talk to him. He's flattered she considers him such a threat.

"I'm sure you could _convince_ her to come in pacefully."

Coulson could laugh but it wouldn't be classy of him, he guesses.

He laughs.

"There's nothing you can threaten me with so I'll cooperate. You've got my team on a tight leash. Daisy is gone. And every leverage you might have had walked out of the door when she did. I've got nothing to lose."

"But you've got something to protect," Price replies. "Think about it. The resources of the US government against just a girl."

"Yeah, the whole US governement and _you're sweating_ , Rosalind. And you're right to be sweating. Me? I'll just keep waiting."

"Waiting for what?" she asks, like he is about to reveal some very secret plan to her.

"For her to win."

 

 

**4.**

When he wakes up he's in a civilian hospital and they tell him they figured it was easier than getting Daisy to the base. Still, the ATCU is watching them, because Coulson is Daisy's one weakness they know about and can exploit and Coulson is almost hoping she won't show up. But she calls and arranges it with Mack to take out the floor guards Price put there, while she hijacks their camera feeds and makes them think everything keeps being normal, Price probably exasperated she's not appearing, probably watching the monitors even at three in the morning and from across the globe.

Andrew is on the shift now, keeping him company, and Coulson is not sure – everything is fuzzy, the corners of the image are a bit too sweet, he's not sure what the pain of his injuries has disappeared to – but he thinks Andrew is a bit bored of babysitting at this point. He's the one there when Skye (oh right, _Daisy_ , funny, he hasn't made that mistake in ages), when Daisy arrives.

"You shouldn't have come," Coulson shakes his head when he sees her, not sure what he's thinking or what it's actually making it out of his mouth, he's been having problems with that since the nice nurse came and changed his drip. "It's dangerous."

"Yes, it is, but I had to," she tells him.

Not that he doesn't want to see her, he always wants to see her. Even if her face looks kind of sad right now when she looks at Coulson. Is it his fault? Did he do something bad again?

"Did he hurt you?" Daisy asks him, coming closer to the bed.

"Well, I'm in a hospital," he says, laughing softly to himself.

"He's on drugs, right?" Daisy asks Andrew, turning around like she's noticing his presence for the first time.

"As many as he can," Andrew replies.

She turns her face to him again, making out the bruises on his cheeks and neck.

He admits it: he was hoping she _would_ show up.

Coulson, with some difficulty because god everything hurts and Ward is one strong son of a bitch, reaches out and touches his hand to Daisy's elbow.

"He got away again," he tells her, solemnly, suddenly feeling the weight of that, of having let him escape once more. "I wanted to get him."

"I know."

"I wanted to get him for you, for May, for all of us."

Daisy shoots a sideways glance towards Andrew, who is perfectly familiar with the cost of having Grant Ward in their lives.

But Coulson feels like it's a personal failure. He couldn't keep Daisy safe in her own home, and he couldn't put her tormentor down. And he keeps failing her. Even after all of this – _this_ is what they get, a brief visit where she risks getting caught just so they can talk a few minutes. She'll go away and on the run again and the most he can hope for is getting a few more minutes in a couple of weeks, maybe longer.

Only a few minutes. He'd better take a good look at her then, he reminds himself, he'd better commit her face to memory in case he keeps failing her.

"Your hair," he notices, and at first he thinks it's the drugs.

She touches the back of her neck. "Yeah. You like it?"

"It's – yes I do but. Not very discreet," he comments.

"Exactly," Daisy tells him, running her hand through it. "Price probably would never think to look for a girl with bright blue hair, right? Hiding in plain sight."

"You're right." God she's so smart, "You're so _smart_.."

"You know, I think I prefer you on morphine," she teases him.

"Believe me, you don't," Andrew intervenes, dryly.

"Has Doctor Garner been mean to you?" she asks him.

He looks over at Andrew, confused. Andrew is _not_ mean.

"No," he whines. "Andrew is nice."

She chuckles.

She comes closer. She reaches out and touches his neck, covered in bandages. Even with all the drugs Coulson knows that bit hurts.

"He's okay," Andrew declares. 

"Are you sure? No permanent damage? Because he's got enough of that already," she's turned when she says this and Coulson can't see the face that goes with sharp, angry words.

"None. They keep him drugged so that the broken ribs don't bother him," Andrew explains.

Broken ribs? He can't feel a thing. Sure, he is finding it a bit harder than usual, the whole breathing thing but he doubts there's a connection. Right?

More importantly...

He grabs Daisy's shirt and pulls, claiming her attention.

"I miss you," he tells her.

Her face softens.

"I miss you too," she says, then looks at Andrew. "I miss all of you guys."

Coulson feels himself pouting, tugging at her shirt again. "Yeah but I hope you miss _me_ a little bit more than the rest."

Andrew touches Daisy's arm. 

"I think you should let him sleep now," he tells her. "Before he says something he'll regret."

"Thank you, Doctor Garner, you're a good Doctor Garner."

Andrew pats the side of his bed while Daisy stands up. "Right now I'm just trying to be a good friend."

"Wow, I don't think you've called me that in the fifteen years I've known you," Coulson tells him, touched. He thinks he might even cry. No, he's not crying.

Daisy smiles. It's such a nice smile. He wishes he could see more of it. Or more of her, these days, in general. Smile or no smile.

"I think Andrew's right," she says. "I should leave."

Coulson has enough of a functioning brain right now that he knows what she's saying is true. She shouldn't be here, in the first place. But it's hard to let her good. Like she senses he can't be the one to do it Daisy grabs his hand and untangled his fingers from her clothes, gently.

"I promise I'll call as soon as you're out here, okay?"

He nods and Daisy brings her lips to his cheek.

"I wish we had more time," he says to the door once she is already gone.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you will," Andrew comments, startling him, and a bit dismissively, mind you, Coulson thinks.

He turns to the man.

"Andrew..." he says. "I wasn't talking to you."

 

 

**5.**

It's cold as hell and she's waiting for a train, which sounds and looks a bit like they're in a movie.

New burnable identity, new haircut, a hoodie that makes her look younger and she's explaining when she first discovered that travelling by train was the safest way; coaches are more anonymous but you are stuck, crowded, no corners to hide, no way to escape undesirable looks. Old trains like this one – where the station let people walk to the platforms without a ticket, where they let Coulson go with her until the train leaves, to say goodbye – they're perfect to run away.

She's no longer wearing blue hair, it's gone back to brown, and it's longer now. Still different from what he remembers when she was back at the base with everybody, when she was _home_. Coulson's wounds are no longer easily visible, thought they have left scars.

He's explaining that the government is so busy with new threats that SHIELD has become kind of a minor problem, and that's how he managed to come and see her, even if it's just the four minutes on this platform until she has to embark.

She's telling him about her plans for the future.

"We have five safehouses all over the country. We're building one now in Mexico, a big one, with tech and space for training."

"You're building an army," Coulson says.

"This is not what I wanted. But I will protect my people."

"I just wish I could help with more," he laments.

She gives him a skeptical look. "Are you kidding me? You're doing so much. You're keeping us safe."

"I think I still can do a bit more," he says, grabbing her hand and shoving something into her palm.

She opens her fingers and drops her gaze as if she already knew.

"Fury's cube?"

"In case things get really bad," Coulson tells her. "I think it'll be safer with you than with me."

"Coulson?"

He chuckles. It's a bit bitter, it's a bit sad.

"I think you of all people deserve to call me _Phil_ ," he tells her.

She laughs as well and pats his chest and it's warm and oddly intimate, despite the cold and the layers of clothing.

It feels strange to think that if she hadn't have to run away like this Coulson might have never known how he really felt about her.

"I'm going to miss my train," she tells him, getting ready.

He holds on to her arm, gently twisting his fingers into her jacket.

"Daisy, before you go..."

"What?"

"I wish we had more time," he tells her.

" _What_?"

He pulls her towards him, bringing their mouths together.

It's strange, thinking if she hadn't have to leave because of his stupid decisions he would probably never have done something like this. 

He kisses her like it's the one chance he gets, because it probably is, and there's nothing about it of old tricks or how charming he thought he was, once upon a time. He's not thinking about impressing her, he's just trying to _communicate_ here. And maybe, if things get really bad, he wants the memory of bravely sliding his tongue inside her mouth, like a black and white film, all they're missing is some rain.

When pulls away from her and he feels his hands shaking, though he logically knows that _both_ hands can't be shaking.

Daisy stares at him, as stunned as he's ever seen her.

"You'll miss your train," he tells her, turning and walking away.

 

 

**6.**

Then, as it often happens with them, the world goes to hell.

"In case it gets really bad" becomes " _when_ it gets really bad".

James Barnes is alive and an enemy of the state.

Steve Rogers is in hiding again.

There are _sides_ to choose and whatever you choose it could easily cost you your life.

It's not longer about the ATCU versus the Inhumans. It's not about Daisy wasting thousands of government dollars with her refusal to be found. It's not just safehouses or Price and her team always getting a second too late to grab the new gifted person. It's not Coulson feigning ignorance while running secret SHIELD directives to back Daisy's plans.

Suddenly it's the whole country, it's the president on tv and on primetime telling everybody people like Daisy, people _like Daisy_ , are the enemy. It's Coulson watching his whole life fall apart for a second time – except this time it has been gradual, he knew it was happening, he saw everything coming, he saw it and he couldn't do anything about it.

He can't see her again, of course, not for now.

The conversations they have are brief, impersonal, darkened by the ghost of surveillance – they don't talk about what Coulson did in that train station, of course. But some times the old familiarity slips through the cracks of a panicked world:

"That damn Registration Act is making life so much funner for me," she complains one night, and her voice is thousands of miles away and it's still the warmest sound Coulson has heard in weeks. Even if the line cracks with the tension of an elephant in both rooms.

"On the upside that means you're officially a superhero," he tells her.

He hears her snort through the line. "Yeah. Did you hear what they're calling me?"

" _Quake_? I think I like it, actually," he says and wonders how her hair looks now, what color now, how much he's missed.

He hears her smile through the line.

 

 

**7.**

"So this is your fortress of solitude?" Mack asks, once they have passed the many scanners at the door. The makeshift scanners in the DIY fortress, a refuge and a rebel camp and it makes some much sense that this is what Daisy has ended up building.

They arrive in the evening. Coulson knows there's the ocean nearby but they couldn't see it as they drove in.

"Not so much of _solitude_ ," Daisy gestures towards the group of Inhumans gathered in what seems to be the kitchen area. Coulson considers the layout of the place; the distribution of the zones reminds him a bit of the Playground and his heart aches.

"I'm sorry about the massive security," she adds, deliberatedly not looking at Coulson. "We have to make sure they can't trace any signal that will lead them back here."

Mack disappears discreetly towards the door of the lab when Daisy points him there, presumably to visit Lincoln and help his grumpily patching people up, and suddenly Coulson and her are alone for the first time in... Coulson doesn't want to count the days. He's very trying very hard not to set it down in number.

Daisy has been very detached and keeping her distance with Coulson since she picked him and Mack at the drop point. She's a bit icy probably on account that the last time she saw Coulson he made an impromptu love declaration and kissed her out of the blue, without giving her time to react. He feels bad about it, in retrospect, he feels bad about remembering how good it felt to take her in his arms and kiss her.

"We really could have used your language skills setting this thing up," she tells him as she shows him around the place.

"I'd say you're doing just fine. You've put Fury's Cube to good use."

"Yes, and thans for that. And... Sorry about the arm," she says. "No outside tech. It's a rule. We don't know who could be getting tracked and how."

"I get it," he tells her. "Very _Terminator_."

"I think that's a compliment," she says and chuckles a low chuckle, dropping her gaze.

Yes, he knows he hasn't made things easy for when they meet again. He was probably being selfish back in that train station, what feels like a million years ago.

"I'm sorry," he says, stopping in the middle of the hallway. "I've made things uncomfortable, haven't I."

She gives him an ambiguous look.

"You want to see my quarters?" she asks.

He doesn't know how to answer that. "I..."

Daisy tilts her head to one side.

"What? You kiss me dramatically in a train station and _you don't_ want to see whre I sleep?"

He nods and follows her through a narrow tunnel to a larger open room.

Her room is tiny and the desk in covered in different models of laptops, all of them running exploits while Daisy is not there. It's not larger than her bunk in their plane. It barely has a functional door and Coulson can hear everybody coming and going right outside.

She sits on the narrow bed and waits for him to do the same.

"Again, I'm sorry," he says, sitting by her side. Their legs are touching, without room for refusing the intimacy of war and necessity. He drops his gaze. "I put you on the spot. I shouldn't have."

"Are you _really_ sorry?" she asks.

There's some humor in her voice. It's encouraging. He's spent a big part of his time these past months – between battling government agencies and making sure his team is safe _from_ government agencies – thinking about what he'd say if he ever had Daisy in front of him again. It's fitting for him that when the moment comes he can't remember any of his well-rehearsed speeches.

There's only how happy he is upon seeing her face again, and the smell of the ocean nearby. There's nothing else in his head right now.

He wraps his fingers around her thigh. It's warm and it startles Coulson, how solid Daisy is, after these past few months of being a shadow to him, a voice in an encrypted line, messages in bottles and daydreams, memories he wasn't sure he could trust.

"That's a good start," she says, looking at the hand.

"I'm sorry, we don't have to – not tonight."

She narrows her eyes at him with a severe twist in the mouth.

"Coulson, you have to leave in the morning and I have no idea when we'll see each other next."

"That seems to be the case lately," Coulson agrees.

" _Exactly_ ," she argues.

He looks around, her room doesn't have a ceiling, it's just a partition of the huge, rusted building. He tries calculating how many people they passed on the way here. He's impressed at the size of her operation.

"You're their general," Coulson says. "You're waging a war here."

Daisy rests her hand over his. "Yeah, and that can get pretty lonely."

He moves his thumb along the heel of her hand slowly, fearful he's misunderstanding.

"Okay. I'd understand if that's the only reason –"

Daisy shakes her head urgently.

" _It's not_."

Perhaps not the longest love declaration Coulson has ever received, but the one he feels he's been waiting all his life.

 

 

**8.**

He's not sure how long he's slept, only that he wakes up to the sensation of Daisy's fingers brushing across his back. Loki stabbed him from a low angle so the wound is higher on his back than on his chest.

"You know, I hadn't thought about the exit wound," she says, pressing her index against the patch of scarred skin between his shoulders. She thumbs the edges of the injury carefully, where numb scar becomes sensitive skin. "I'm glad you didn't stay dead," Daisy is telling him. "We wouldn't have met."

And Coulson thinks he made peace with the fact that he was unnaturally brought back to life a long time ago, and he's been glad for it, even grateful, for a while, but he hasn't felt he knew exactly why – why he's here at all – until tonight.

He draws a long breath. He hadn't thought he'd ever share a bed with someone again, but the world has become quite strange and he's not as surprised as he should. Daisy grabs his shoulder and pulls him to her, turning him on his side so that they are face to face. They kiss for some minutes, like they're saying hello to each other, like this is normal, something they do, something they're used to. He doubts he could get used to it. They kiss each other until every limb is soft and every inch of skin is flushed with pink joy.

"It's almost dawn," Coulson says, more listening to the sounds outside their door – people waking up, ready to fight the good fight and fight it _early_ – than seeing any light. "I know I have to leave soon."

Daisy's brow furrows.

"I wish we had more time," she tells him, gently pressing her fingers against his jaw and dropping her hand to where Ward made a permanent mark on his neck.

He stares at her, stunned.

"So you _did_ hear me."

"Of course I heard you," she says, rolling her eyes a bit. "You gave me a lot to think about, I'll tell you that. Those words got me through many a lonely night. Well, they also kept me up many nights so maybe I should be angry at you, after all."

You should be angry at me for many reasons, he thinks, but it's not the moment to regret all that. Can he really regret any of this?

"It's strange to think that if I hadn't been forced to run away, if we hadn't been separated, I'd probably never know what you really mean to me," Daisy goes on in hushed tones. "But it's a bit sad, thinking that. So no, I choose to believe this would have happened anyway."

Coulson can't be as sure that it would have, she's the expert on faith, so he leaves that stuff to her and instead kisses her hard against the pillow, curling his fingers around her hipbone and pushing her back into the small mattress. She brings her hand between their bodies, taking his cock in it and guiding him between her legs. It's not as desperate as the first time, wartime-lovemaking and dissatisfaction and tenderness, but it has its own kind of urgency. 

The place is coming alive and Daisy grabs his hand and presses his fingers to her lips, stiffling her moans as Coulson moves into her, slowly, one deep thrust for every breath she takes. He follows her lead and presses his mouth against her neck when he feels her name pour out of him like an open wound. She leaves scratches on the back of his neck that will last him half the drive home and that Coulson will miss them when they fade.

 

 

**9.**

She knocks on the door.

He's happy they have gone back to having a door.

She wiggles her eyebrows at his attire. He's come from an interview, he figured he could take the old suit for a ride.

"Hey. New hand," she comments.

"New hair."

She smiles at him and slips inside the office, sitting on the desk in front of him.

"Seems like a motif with us," she says. "Though after that stunt you pulled in Chicago I doubt you're ever having problems again getting the US government to fund your robot hand. Or _any other_ part of you." And she clears her throat in an unmistakeable way.

"You mean that stunt _you_ pulled in Chicago," he points out. "I barely did anything, I can't be held to any legal consequences."

"Yeah, I'm practically an Avenger," Daisy shrugs.

"Don't joke about that," Coulson warns her, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her down from the desk and towards him.

This time it hasn't been months since the last time they saw each other, but he kisses her with pretty much the same urgency.

When he pulls away, more breathless than the first time (she was leaving, he was _brave_ ), Daisy is looking at him with an amused, kind expression. She brings her hand to his face, pressing her palm against his cheek.

"Phil?" she asks.

He wraps his hand around her wrist and pulls her away, he needs to concentrate here.

"Hey. What?" she asks.

"I know we haven't talked about what we want for the future," he tells her. "And I know that practically an Avenger is probably something out of my league. But I was hoping that isn't the case."

Daisy raises an eyebrow. It's been a while since he's seen her this stunned. 

" _Coulson_ ," she says, like she's about to admonish him, he knows that tone. "Do you even have doubts? Come on. You're the one person in this world who made me believe I was allowed to keep the things I loved. That I wasn't fated or cursed to lose everything. Because every time I lost you you managed to come back to me, no matter how hard you had to fight for it, you made sure I knew I had a home. So yeah, if it's okay with you, I was hoping I could keep you for good."

He brings her hand back to his face, revelling in the feel of her touch on his skin.

"I'm sure that can be arranged," he tells her.


End file.
